Heartbreak and Happiness

"So, dear juniors… today marks the beginning of our college trip to Shimla!"

A cheerful voice echoed through the college bus as it revved to life.

"I'm Anshuman," the speaker continued with infectious energy, "and I welcome you all with an open heart. I truly hope this journey becomes a beautiful memory for each one of you. Under my and Nikhil's leadership, this adventure officially begins now!"

The bus erupted into cheers, claps, and excited murmurs.

And just like that—with those words, a burst of laughter, and the gentle hum of the engine—my journey to Shimla began.

The cold morning air outside was crisp and promising, filled with the quiet thrill of something new. I sat by the window, my breath fogging the glass slightly, watching the road stretch ahead like an invitation. There was a warmth blooming inside me, something close to joy… or maybe hope. Maybe both.

I had been excited, yes. But nothing—absolutely nothing—could match the energy of Simmi and Ruhi.

They were practically bouncing in their seats, taking selfies, giggling, and pointing out every single dog, tree, or oddly shaped cloud we passed. This wasn't just a trip for them—it was their first time going somewhere together, away from the routine, away from expectations, and most importantly… away from fear.

Simmi leaned over, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Ruhi, if we don't get a thousand photos on this trip, we've failed as travelers!"

Ruhi laughed and replied, "I brought a new power bank just for this mission. No moment will go undocumented!"

They were radiant, their happiness spilling out into the air like music. And watching them—so alive, so free—made my heart swell in the best way.

And then there was him.

Nikhil.

Sitting a few seats away, talking to Anshuman, managing a group of juniors who were asking too many questions too early in the morning. He looked calm, composed, but when his eyes met mine across the aisle… he smiled.

That same soft, quiet smile that had come to mean so much.

He didn't need to sit beside me for me to feel close to him.

We had our own language now—in glances, in silences, in small nods and half-grins. And in that moment, I realized something:

This trip wasn't just a break from the past.

It was the start of something new.

A chance to make memories untouched by pain.

To explore more than just hills and snowfall.

To explore each other—our dreams, our laughter, our stories.

As the bus rolled out of the city, the buildings grew smaller, replaced by open roads and winding trees. Everyone around me was laughing, talking, shouting—playing games, sharing snacks, and humming old songs.

And I?

I leaned back against the seat, pulled my hoodie tighter around me, and looked out the window…

Letting the wind carry away everything I was leaving behind.

Because ahead of me—beyond the hills, the turns, the fog and the snow…

Waited something beautiful.

A journey of enjoying.

Of freedom.

Of love.

And it had just begun.

As the bus rolled through winding roads, with pine trees swaying on either side and chilly winds whispering of mountains ahead, I sat comfortably by the window, a quiet smile on my face. Simmi and Ruhi had taken the seats just behind me, their excitement still bubbling over from all the games and chatter that had been going on since morning.

At one point, Simmi leaned forward, resting her chin on the backrest of my seat.

"Rohan," she said, her voice suddenly more serious, "I know you're close to Nikhil… and now even Anshuman seems to like you. But I'm telling you this as a friend—don't get too involved in their senior circle or their parties."

Ruhi, who had been quietly listening, nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Seriously. No matter how friendly they seem, don't forget—they're seniors. And seniors have this weird habit of turning fun into some crazy challenge or dangerous task. And you…" she looked at me, raising her brow, "you're way too soft-hearted to say no."

I chuckled. "I'm not that soft."

"You are," both of them said in perfect unison, which made all three of us laugh.

Simmi leaned closer again. "Look, we're not saying they're bad people. Just… be careful, okay? Sometimes these so-called 'welcome games' turn into something else entirely. They push boundaries. They test limits. And if they know you won't back down easily… they'll target you."

I sighed, nodding slowly. "I know… I've heard stories."

"Good," Ruhi said. "Then promise us you'll be careful."

There was something gentle but protective in their eyes—especially Simmi's. The way she looked at me then… it reminded me of all the times she'd stood beside me, stood up for me, and never let anyone walk over me—even when I wasn't strong enough to fight for myself.

"I promise," I said, offering them both a small, sincere smile. "No matter how much I trust them, I won't get dragged into anything stupid. I'll stay alert."

Simmi finally relaxed, nodding in approval. "Good. Now that we've lectured you like concerned aunties, let's get back to having fun."

Ruhi laughed and pulled out her phone. "Perfect timing. Let's take a selfie before the hills steal our network!"

We all leaned in, our heads touching, smiles wide, hearts lighter. The click of the camera froze that moment in time—three friends, huddled together on the road to Shimla, surrounded by laughter, warnings, and warmth.

And somewhere deep down, I knew…

Their words weren't just friendly advice.

They were a reminder.

That I wasn't alone anymore.

Whatever came next… I had people who cared.

And that made all the difference.

To be continue....